


Popular Science

by newbie93



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, I shouldn't be allowed on the internet, This came out of nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newbie93/pseuds/newbie93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz is acting stranger than usual and, surprisingly, Skye figures out why before Jemma.</p>
<p>For Day #2 of Fitzsimmons Week: Unexpected</p>
            </blockquote>





	Popular Science

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on Tumblr: http://thehummusoffensive.tumblr.com/post/91767463594/requested-by-anon
> 
> I have no idea how this came to fruition. I got carried away. All mistakes are my own.

He’s been fidgety all day, pestering Coulson about the mail with a franticness that actually frightens Jemma. He’s been distracted, unable to keep focus for more than a few minutes, and has grown paler by the hour. He hasn’t been like this in months, not since his painstaking recovery from the accident, and she’s worried that he may be suffering some form of relapse.

 

He hasn’t spoken to her all day, brushing her off and leaving the room any time she enters. She wracks her brain thinking of something she may have done to upset him until Skye asks her why Fitz is acting, “like a total nut-job.” After comparing interactions, Jemma realizes that Fitz’s behavior has not been focused solely on her. He’s been erratic and jumpy with everyone, so much so that even May had taken Jemma aside to voice her concerns.

 

She tries to think about whether or not the date holds any significance. She can’t think of anything, good or bad, that would send Fitz into such a tizzy. His monthly care package from his mother, the only thing he _ever_ gets in the mail, came 2 weeks ago so she has no idea why he’s been pacing in the mailroom for the past hour. She and Skye are watching the video feed in the base’s conference room, both trying to figure out what has gotten him in such a panic. They bounce ideas off of each-other but it quickly goes from jokes to legitimate possibilities.

 

“Seriously Simmons, he’s snapped. The lack of oxygen finally got to him and now he’s gone full psycho.” Jemma tries to block out the other girl, who has begun voicing the scientist’s greatest fear, and remains concentrated on the monitor in front of her. The nightmare that has plagued her since Fitz woke up. “Skye… Please stop.” It doesn’t deter her. “I mean look at him! He’s worse than Dr. Selvig pre-Battle of New York… and post-Battle of New York now that I think about it… Dude’s straight-up crazy.”

 

Jemma turns to argue, to defend her friend, but at that moment Fitz yanks off his tie and shirt, leaving him in a white T that does little to hide how much he’s been sweating. “See! Stripping! He’s gone full-Selvig! We’ve got to tell Coulson before Fitzy decides to make this an NC-17 show.”

 

Jemma grabs the younger girl before she can go anywhere, waving her hand to get her attention. “Skye. Stop.” It comes out a bit more desperate then she’d intended and she thinks her face must look as pitiful as she sounds because the next thing she knows Skye has enveloped her into a hug. “Sorry Simmons.” It’s a mumble that she barely hears but she appreciates it none-the-less. It takes a few seconds of Skye repeating, “It’s going to be fine, Fitz is fine,” before Jemma realizes that she’s crying. Not the wracking sobs that escaped her when Fitz woke up for the first time, but the silent tears that fell down her face every night until he did.

 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” She takes a step back and wipes at her face, taking controlling breaths and shaking her head in an attempt to get herself together. She gives a shaky smile to Skye and opens her mouth to thank her for the hug when Fitz bounds into the room…. Beaming.

 

“Ladies.” He nods his head at them as he passes by and they watch in shock as he bypasses them completely and heads for his room. He looks as though the weight of the world has been removed from his shoulders and she’s almost positive he just _skipped_ down the hall. “What… the hell?” Skye wastes no time voicing exactly what she herself had been thinking. “I… I have no idea.” They make bewildered eye contact, which immediately breaks as they both snap their head in the direction of the _humming_ that is coming from Fitz’s room.

 

“I’m… I’m going to go…” She points vaguely in the direction of the other half of Fitzsimmons and Skye shoos her away nodding her head in encouragement. It takes her 18 seconds to walk the length of the hallway and another 30 before she has the courage to actually knock on her partner’s door. “Fitz?” She tries to make her voice seem gentle and unassuming, but knows that it sounds as confused as she feels. “It’s open!” She needs no other encouragement and tentatively walks through the door, uncertain as to which version of Fitz will be on the other side.

 

He’s changed shirts and is in front of the mirror attempting to tie a Windsor around his neck. He’s had difficulty since the accident, left hand always a bit shaky, but determinedly loops the silk where in needs to go, tongue sticking out in concentration. She lets herself smile. It’s a rather insignificant moment in the grand scheme of things but the look of satisfied elation that crosses his face when the task is complete warms her heart. He makes eye contact with her in the mirror and she can’t help the warm flush that crosses her cheeks when he beams at her.

 

She is more than taken aback. It’s as though the day of radio silence had never happened. “Are you alright?” She’s hesitant with the question, wary of saying something that will push Fitz back into his earlier mood. He turns to face her, smile still in place, and convincingly says, “Never been better.” He’s telling the truth, which is a bit surprising to her after a day of walking on eggshells around him. “Okay… It’s just… You’ve been a bit jumpy today…” He laughs off her concern, placing a hand on her shoulder and leading her out of the room. “Yeah, sorry about that Jem. Rough nights make for rougher mornings I suppose. Nothing a good movie can’t fix.” She peers up at him and knows, absolutely _knows_ , that he’s not giving her the full story, but he’s rubbing lazy circles on her shoulder now and she decides that whatever was bothering him can wait until he’s not being so distracting.

 

They walk back to the conference room, eager to ask Skye to join them, and stop when they realize that nobody else is in the room. “I guess she isn’t here anymo…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead he looks over her shoulder at the screen behind her, eyes widening in fear, before he sprints away from her yelling Skye’s name. She is overcome with a wave of panic, thinking that Fitz must have seen some threat and Skye is in danger. Instead, when she looks over her shoulder, she sees Skye in the mailroom holding what appears to be a magazine with her hand covering her mouth.

 

She sprints after Fitz, colliding with him three feet into the mailroom. Skye is standing next to the little box with her name on it and Fitz is completely unmoving. “Oh my god.” Skye is holding something in her hand with a look of complete shock on her face. “Oh… my… GOD!”

 

The younger agent looks up at her and Fitz… actually… just Fitz. Jemma turns quizzically to her partner, wondering if he has any idea what has left Skye so speechless, and is shocked to see the blood drain from his face. He’s whiter than she’s ever seen him and looks as though he’s seeing a million ghosts at once. She turns back to the younger agent and watches as Skye’s eyes move rapidly between the terrified Fitz and whatever is in her hand. The girl’s gaze lands back on the 0-8-4 and she simply stares. “Holy shit Fitz! You look smoking!” She then doubles over in laughter.

 

Jemma glances at Fitz in confusion. He looks the same as he always does, curly hair in a disarray, with a tie that matches his jumper. She’s always had a secret affinity for this look but had been under the impression that Skye was partial to the v-neck/ leather jacket type. She looks back at her female friend, now red from laughter, and begins to think that maybe she’s the one who’s gone full-Selvig. “Skye…” His voice simultaneously pleads and warns, which does nothing to stop Skye from falling on the floor in hysterics. “Skye… Let’s… Let’s just put that away… Keep it between us.” At this Jemma whips her head towards Fitz in surprise. _Keep it between us? Since when does Fitz keep secrets with Skye… from her?_

He is slowly approaching their fallen friend with his hand outstretched as though each step is bringing him that much closer to a live explosive. “Simmons! Look how hot your _other half_ looks!” She tries to show whatever’s in her hand to Jemma but Fitz uses his body to shield her from view. The two begin some sort of take on Monkey in the Middle, with Skye ducking and weaving as Fitz blocks her at every turn. “SKYE!” _Ducks left._ “Quit it!” _Ducks right._ “I didn’t spend four hours waiting to burn our copies just to have you come in here like a total wild-card and show her yours!”

 

This causes Skye to fall on the floor laughing again and at this point Jemma has gone from confused, to amused, to irritated. “FITZ!” She yells his name loud enough to rip him away from his battle with Skye. “You had better tell me what is going on right this instant or I swear…” She knows that she sounds like a middle-aged mother scolding her child but doesn’t care enough to be embarrassed. The distraction was all Skye needed to run around the engineer and thrust the magazine into Jemma’s hands.

 

She feels her jaw drop and her heart double in speed. Skye is standing next to her muttering in her ear, switching between, “Looking good,” and, “So. Damn. Hot,” and Jemma can only nod in agreement. She looks up to see Fitz standing rigidly in front of her, face getting redder by the second, and resolutely avoiding her gaze. She doesn’t even care because in a second her eyes are back on the magazine, appreciatively taking in every centimeter of the glossy cover.

 

She’s lost in the image and barely hears Skye say, “I’ll leave you two alone,” while turning around and walking out of the mailroom. It’s another few minutes before she finds the strength to tear her eyes away from the magazine and look at Fitz. He’s staring at his shoes and scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit that she’d always found to be rather adorable. Now it’s possibly the most attractive thing she’s ever seen.

 

“So Skye reads… _and_ has a subscription to Popular Science… That was umm… that was unexpected.” He still won’t look at her, letting his eyes wander around the room at everything and anything he might use as a distraction. Her mouth had gone dry about five minutes ago but she manages to choke out a rather pathetic, “When?”

 

He lets out a deep sigh and finally, _finally,_ looks at her. “A couple of months ago. Before… You know the whole… Hydra and drowning thing.” He looks like he wants to bolt out of the room. She is suddenly overcome with the emotions she’d kept at bay since his accident, the accident that made him forget about certain _feelings_ he’d professed while 90 feet under water. She does her best to mask her surge of emotions with a stoic face, which apparently was the wrong thing to do because Fitz is suddenly in front of her, tossing the magazine aside and grasping her hands in his own. “Jemma? Jemma are you upset? I’m sorry! I know I should have told you but I’d honestly forgotten about it until they emailed me this morning!” He’s too close. “Jemma please don’t be mad, I’m sorr…”

 

It’s a bit of an out-of-body experience. One second her eyes are flitting between his eyes and lips and the next second she is slamming into him, molding his mouth to her own as she grabs his head and tugs him closer. Every restraint she had placed on herself over the past few months, years if she’s being honest, flies out the window as she kisses him with all the energy she has. It takes exactly 2.6 seconds for him to respond with equal fervor.

 

She’s not sure how long they stay like that but when they finally break away they are equally breathless. He’s grinning down at her as though he’s won the lottery and she is certain that whatever she sees in his face is mirrored in her own. His hands are on her waist and hers are rubbing circles in his neck. She is overcome with a giddiness that only he could cause.

 

“That… Is getting framed.” She punctuates each word with a kiss, whispering, “Immediately,” in his ear before he hoists her up and carries her out of the room, leaving the magazine forgotten on the floor.

 

 


End file.
